Wimbledon champion tells Robert Crampton of relief that spotlight on him has faded . . .albeit only slightly

Andy Murray eases himself into the back of a Mercedes in the car park at the Queen’s Club, West London, and the big saloon pulls smoothly away. He is wearing a grey tracksuit, pinned to the front of which, rather incongruously, is a remembrance poppy.

He spends a little while getting comfortable — it has been six weeks since surgery on his back brought an end to his season. Rehab is well under way, but he hasn’t actually hit any tennis balls yet and won’t for another week or so. He’s still got to be careful, even for a short drive such as this one to his home in Cobham, Surrey. The length of the journey will determine the length of our interview. Turns out it takes about half an hour.

Murray has got a book out. It’s not an autobiography — “I did one when I was about 20 and it’s a big regret, I was way too young” — but an account of the year or so leading up to his victory at Wimbledon in July. It’s called Seventy Seven, a reference to the number of years, before Murray, since a British man had won the singles in SW19. I ask, fully expecting him to say “no”, if the “77 years” issue had weighed on him.

“Yes,” he says, with a surprising degree of feeling for a man who is otherwise so calm and collected, “because I got reminded about it all the time. It had become part of my life. I probably do almost 100 press conferences a year, and in half of them I’d get asked the 77 years question. The pressure builds. You get frustrated.” And he still isn’t free of it. For the past four months, he says, he’s been asked constantly ­whether it’s a relief not to be asked constantly about the 77-year gap.

The actual match — particularly the final game — is a bit of a blur, he admits. Asked to relive his emotions for his book, he struggled. “Explaining emotions in public is quite difficult. It’d be easy to make something up and just lie. Remembering it accurately is tiring.” Also, at the time, he was presumably concentrating on not having any emotions? “That’s the thing. It’s the final at Wimbledon.” He recalls climbing up to the players’ box to hug his friends, family and coaches — while forgetting, ­famously, to embrace his mum. Did she give him a hard time afterwards? “No,” he laughs. “She was fine.”

The immediate aftermath of victory was, for four or five days, “actually quite overwhelming. A bit of a shock. Photographers everywhere. I thought then maybe my life was going to change drastically.” He didn’t much relish the extra acclaim and attention. “You just want to enjoy it with friends and family and you can’t. It’s a bit of a shame but it’s part of the job,” he says.

Then he went off on holiday to the Bahamas with his girlfriend, Kim Sears, and was able to reflect on his achievement. “You go through different feelings,” he says. “What stands out the most is the thought that all the work you’ve put in was actually worth it. I had lost a lot of really big matches in the past. When I’d lost in the final the year before, I started doubting whether it was all worth it. The last 12 months suggests it was worth persevering.”

When he got back from holiday, he was much relieved that press interest had died down. “Back to normal,” he says. Sears, he says, “handled the spotlight very well. She’s got used to that focus on our personal life at that time of year. A lot of people became interested in whether we were going to get married or not.” He didn’t enlighten them then — nor will he now.

Murray is 26. Having joined the professional tour when he was 18, he’s now a little over halfway through his career. He judged it a good time to sort his back out and have a break. “I’d had problems off and on for about 20 months. All the things I like doing away from the court — football, go-karting, golf — I wasn’t able to do because I was always having physio, and my back wasn’t getting any better.”For two weeks after the surgery, he wasn’t allowed to sit up. “That was pretty boring, but now I’m doing things I haven’t done before, like working on a treadmill under water. It’s a new experience, quite fun.” He’s training at Chelsea’s complex near his home in Cobham, José Mourinho having extended an invitation. Next week, he flies to his home in Miami for pre-season. A comeback at the Australian Open in January is “realistic”, but “with stuff like this if you aren’t ready you re-injure yourself.”

Three months a year in Cobham, three months in Miami, the rest on the road — that’s Murray’s life. Plus a few days back home in Scotland over Christmas. It’s a relentless schedule of planes and training and hotels, but it’s all he’s known in his adult life, and he knows he has perhaps only another five years at the top. “Twenty-five, 26, 27, that’s when you’re at your peak physically.” Even now, he says, his body hurts after a long match in a way it didn’t a few years ago. “But I’m also stronger than I was then, so it’s a balance.”

We’ve left London . The streets are getting seriously leafy. Not long left. I mention Ivan Lendl, the former great whose arrival as Murray’s coach 18 months ago coincided with the long-delayed fulfilment of the Scot’s potential. Murray has won two grand slam tournaments. Lendl won eight. “Oh I wouldn’t expect to win eight,” Murray says, seeing where the conversation is heading. “The position I’m in, having had surgery, I’d be happy just winning another one. It’s hard to win. It took me seven years to win my first one.”

Partly that is explained by the unusually (some experts would say uniquely) high quality of the opposition, in the form of the three all-time greats: Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic. “People always say, ‘Oh, in a different era you would have won more.’ But because of those guys I’ve become a much better tennis player, trying to find ways to win against them.”

He gets on well with all his rivals. “I’ve known Novak since I was 11, Rafa since I was 13. I like Roger. I have their phone numbers, I speak to them, message them occasionally, but it’s very difficult to be best friends when you’re playing each other,” he says. “When we finish playing I would hope I would be able to go out for dinner with them, just chat. I hope when we all finish everyone can get on. I think we’ll see this has been a great era in men’s tennis. I’ll be happy to have been a small part of that.”

The car draws up at a barrier guarding an imposing private housing estate. Andy Murray says his goodbyes and saunters inside.

Andy Murray has revealed that the fear of being branded “unpatriotic” led him to risk his vulnerable back during the Davis Cup tie in Croatia in September — and thus move further down the road to surgery.

Murray, who is still unsure whether he will be fit to play the Australian Open in January, has been involved in Davis Cup rows before. Most famously, he was criticised by his own brother Jamie when he withdrew from a 2008 tie against Argentina citing knee trouble.

The pressure was all the greater this year. Not only had Murray taken a two-year break from the Davis Cup – a period in which he landed both the Wimbledon and US Open titles – but Great Britain’s second-string players had earned the team a chance to return to the World Group.

Murray must have gone to Croatia with serious misgivings, however, after a disappointing campaign on the American hard courts ended in straight-sets defeat against Stan Wawrinka in the fourth round of the US Open. Only now has he acknowledged how much pain he was suffering throughout the aftermath of his Wimbledon triumph.

“I decided before Wimbledon that I was going to have the surgery after the US Open,” said Murray, who was speaking at the launch of his new racket, the Head Graphene Radical, at Queen’s Club in London. “Then, obviously, I won Wimbledon so, naturally, my team were like ‘Maybe it’s not the best idea to have it’ and I kind of went along with that.

This is a very interesting article especially if you read beyond the part quoted. andy played the US hardcourt swing knowing he would be out the rest of the season. Also very revealing about how much the injury was affecting his play. Makes me all the more overcome in admration for his achievements (if that were possible) and excited for tthe future possibilities.

this is the most optimistic article I've read yet. Andy says that there are a number of shots he's not been able to make in last couple of years because of his back and he's hopeful that, if the op has worked, he'll be able to do so again and will be faster. Oh my, if he's right we ain't seen nothing yet my friends

[oh sorry just seen that the telegraph piece is saying the same thing towards the end as I'd just read the quoted bit before - never mind can't have enough of it!]

oh and although it's not written by our Kev, he has written the piece on WTF. I was beginning to fear the Guardian had let him go as there have been no stories by him about any of the sports he usually covers for ages.

Also typical of Andy's honesty to admit that he was worried about the criticism if he'd not played DC when he could easily have presented a more 'positive' set of reasons.

What a shame that Andy felt he'd be judged if he pulled out of the Davis Cup tie, but sadly, and even if he was in hospital at that very time, he would have been. I imagine it was good for him to have a positive experience with so many of his tennis-world friends, just before his lay-off.

Thanks especially for the article from yesterday's Times. I had intended to pick up a copy when I was out yesterday, but various event colluded to change my schedule and thought that was the end of that. It's a very good read.

It must be such a relief to Andy to know that he won't have to play in pain anymore. I'm looking forward to seeing what difference this might make to his playing style - perhaps he'll go back to using more variety like he used to when he was younger?

I can just imagine the criticism from certain tennis pundits if he had pulled out from the Davis Cup. But at least by playing he got to end his season with a win.

It must be such a relief to Andy to know that he won't have to play in pain anymore. I'm looking forward to seeing what difference this might make to his playing style - perhaps he'll go back to using more variety like he used to when he was younger?

I can just imagine the criticism from certain tennis pundits if he had pulled out from the Davis Cup. But at least by playing he got to end his season with a win.

I also like the fact that he admits he was too young for his autobiography. He is such an honest person (even if he has hidden the pain for so long, take note Virgina Wade et al who called him a drama queen).